Emerald Glares

For enquiries please email: [email protected] I ain't a rapstar. I am a legend. I ain't never done crack. Or even imagined I'm your brother. Take it back to the Times. When the wicked are clean. So you know that clean be wicked. They never be firing in self defence. I infuse my immortalized soul on to the wax. Pick a side any how don't be pushing weight. Out of the flavour of hatred. We give you the classic vintage raps. Forget about our best. They be messing with the rest. Guaranteed to induce scratching. My calibre exhumed so be prepared. I embrace you with these fumes. Giving life to a tantric embodiment of paradise. It takes no less than being gifted. You know we practice the alphabet. Till they mess with the law. Ornaments filled with destruction. My nature be transparent among the generals. I make you feel the force from my breakthroughs. Invisible these narrow minds contemplate genocide. But we remain blessed from the biblical. This shit was conceived in reality. We making love far from the criminals.